It was the Way it had to Be
by SiriStar
Summary: Severus Snape has his family in hiding for good reason, but his sons jeopardize everything with their inquisitiveness, threatening them all with a fate far worse than death...
1. Chapter 1

_Chapter One: A Year_

Severus emptied the decanter of Fire Whiskey into his glass and, surprised to find himself rendered rather unsteady, unusually quickly, moved towards the seat behind his desk and threw himself into it rather unceremoniously. A customary expression of distaste played about his features as he momentarily swilled the contents of the aforementioned glass before downing it in one swift mouthful. Finding himself now entirely devoid of intoxicating beverages he turned his attentions to the single faded photograph he maintained in a dark metal frame on his desk. Bringing it closer to his chest, the better to see it, he observed the angular features of the young man it depicted, who smiled shyly back at him, straightening his hat and dusting off his Gryffindor school robes. Severus ran his thumb along the outline of a grand house just visible behind they boy's head and smiled inwardly as he recalled his memories of it before his watch caught his eye and he was brought back to his senses.

Bryony had expected him home for tea some five and a half hours ago. She would not be at all pleased with him, but then, she never often was. He sighed with resignation and placed the photograph back on his desk, reluctantly shifting his gaze away from it. He retrieved his trunk, dowsed the lights and warded his door, before making his way through to the entrance hall; silently praying he would meet with nobody.

'Severus?' a tender voice called from somewhere behind him.

'Headmaster,' he replied, neither turning to face Dumbledore nor discontinuing the action of unlocking the main school door; he would not establish a pretence of wanting to remain in Dumbledore's company tonight.

Dumbledore seemed to hesitate and as Severus finally looked up at him he could see a personal debate rage within the Headmaster's eyes. The old man looked sorrowful and Severus greatly hoped he would maintain his composure. 'Do have a good Christmas, won't you?' Dumbledore said at length.

Severus heaved a small, breathy laugh, 'I'll try,' he stated, 'evening, Albus.' The Headmaster nodded in response and Severus immediately resented the sympathetic look plaguing those sparkling blue eyes.

Wrapping his cloak tighter around his shoulders, Severus made his way through the school grounds and out of the winged-boar flanked gates, where he disapparated, appearing moments later on the dank front lawn of a small, aged house, situated in what was evidently a Muggle street. He approached the front door and opened it to the abhorrent sound of a child weeping. He sighed with aggravation, deposited his trunk on the parquet floor and made his way up the stairs to the room of his youngest son, where he leant against the doorframe to observe the scene within.

The boy was evidently agitated, his face was tear stained and his breath issued in short rasps. Bryony sat on the edge of his bed, a comforting arm placed somewhat half-heartedly around his shoulders. 'You have to calm down, Noel' she soothed, but the tone of exasperation in her voice was not lost on Severus. 'Before you give yourself a nosebleed,' she added, glancing around the room as though looking for something better to do. Her eyes momentarily settled on Severus and she issued him a scathing look but did not announce his presence to their son: something for which Severus was immensely relieved.

He had never wanted to be a father for the sole reason that he knew he would be no good at it, he had not, after all, had a particularly decent role model in his own father, and as such Severus' entire parenting philosophy revolved around doing entirely the opposite to what Tobias had done. Severus distanced himself from his son's dealings as much as was possible without appearing neglectful, whereas his own father was eager to interfere at any given opportunity. Tobias had been a pretentious and proud man who bullied and connived to gain his way and while Severus was, of course, strict, had an expectance of reverence and loyalty from his boys and would tolerate no foolery, he would by no means oppress his son's into doing as he bid.

His lack of desire for children did of course call into question why it was that he had, in fact, fathered four of them. The first had been entirely a surprise, Severus would ensure anyone who dared inquire, for the act of making a child had been entirely experimental for Severus and Bryony at the age of sixteen, the age they were when Quentin was conceived. Severus might have gone as far to say Quentin had been entirely a mistake if he did not think so highly of his first-born. As for the three boys that followed, they had been conceived of Bryony's request. She had wanted siblings for Quentin because that was what 'proper families did'. In the subsequent years since they had married Severus had found himself partake in a number of intolerable affairs because it was what 'proper families did'. The truth of the matter was, however, that the Snapes were by no means a 'proper family'.

Severus cursed himself mentally for his sentimentality, reminding himself harshly that it would do him no good to become maudlin. He turned his attentions back his son.

' – dreamed it again, mummy!'

'Dreamt what?'

' 'Bout Volmort.'

Bryony sighed with evident annoyance, 'whose been telling you about him?' she asked, though Severus thought she might have known the answer to her own question before she even asked it. His eyes flickered momentarily to the door at the farthest end of the corridor, the room behind which his two eldest sons would be sleeping, entirely oblivious to their youngest sibling's anguish.

'Perry,' Noel replied, innocently.

'And what have I told you about listening to Perry?'

Noel hesitated, 'don't do it?' he replied at length.

Severus suppressed a smile.

'Exactly, now come on, back to sleep,' Bryony insisted, attempting to ease the boy back down into his bed.

'No!' Noel responded roughly, his arms snapping out of the quilt his mother was trying to tuck around him, 'I sleep in your bed now,' he demanded.

'Noel!' Bryony cried impatiently. She paused for thought, 'you know,' she continued at length, 'your father is home tonight, and you know he would never allow any harm to come to you, don't you?'

The boy seemed to consider this, 'he protect us from Volmort, mummy,' he said. Bryony nodded as the boy settled himself back into bed, both of them oblivious to the odd pang that had just issued from somewhere deep in Severus' abdomen. Noel had certainly spoken a truth. Severus would, and did, go to extreme lengths to ensure the safety of his family, no matter how he might have failed in recent years. It was, after all, his fault that they had been placed in so much danger in the first place. He felt a compulsion that stretched far beyond his role of husband and father.

Severus stood in the doorway for a moment longer as Bryony placed a kiss on Noel's forehead and waited for him to drift back to sleep before turning to leave his room. Severus moved back to let her through the door and leant forwards to kiss her cheek, a husband's obligation he felt, but she ducked out of his reach and marched down the corridor without a word to him. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose between two fingers, wildly debating with himself whether to follow her or retire to their room for the night. He chose the former, knowing tomorrow would be unbearable with her not speaking to him.

o…….…….o

Perry Barrington was bruised and bleeding. He was not accustomed to Muggle fighting and his reactions had been protracted to say the least. He winced as he moved, not sure whether it was with the pain of dragging his broken torso through the frozen country streets or with the embarrassment of having just lost a fight to a fourteen year old. He blamed his father entirely, of course. Had he not had his wand confiscated then he could have given the git what for, he was sure. One more letter from the Ministry for the use of underage magic would make little difference to the already mounting pile under his bed. What were they going to do anyway, expel him from Hogwarts?

They'd have a job.

o…….…….o

Severus found Bryony in the living room staring so intently at a copy of _The Daily Mail_ he was sure her gaze was about to burn a hole right through it. She refused to look up as he entered. He shook his head indignantly, knowing that she was watching him out of the corner of his eye, and made his way over the drinks cabinet which Bryony had kindly refreshed with an assortment of Muggle liquors during his absence at Hogwarts. He poured himself an unmeasured amount of _Courvoisier_ into a tumbler before sitting beside his wife on the sofa, staring into the dying embers of the fire.

'I _am_ sorry I was late home,' he said at length. 'I was busy.'

'Yes,' she replied, still not looking at him, 'and I can smell exactly what it was you were busy doing on your breath.'

He nodded and downed his cognac. 'It's that tournament I was telling you about, it's causing a lot of problems and Dumbledore…' he trailed off, realising she was not listening.

A long silence followed. A silence, in which Severus would, as he was every so often inclined to do, contemplate his marriage to Bryony.

He did not love her as he loved Lily, and he supposed that was the crux of the problem. Bryony Barrington had been there for him, with her emerald eyes and flaming locks that so reminded him of Lily, when he had needed someone most: the summer after Lily Evans rejected him. Bryony had provided solace the summer after his fifth year at Hogwarts; it would the first summer he would not share in Lily's companionship and the mere thought of spending it alone was disheartening to say the least. He would find the solace she provided comparable to that found at the bottom of a bottle of Ogden's Finest in the years to come. He had never intended for his relationship with Bryony to stem any further than that summer. In fact, in his sixth year at Hogwarts he had very much intended to reconcile with Lily. However, an urgent owl from his mother in November that year, insisting he return home for Christmas had instantly quenched any chance of that happening. Bryony was pregnant and with a little pressure from his mother Severus had promised to do the right thing by her and they were married as soon as they were both of age…

He tried not to remember anymore. It was better for him if he lived in the present. There was less pain in the present. He needed to attempt conversation before his memories consumed him.

'He been having a lot of bad dreams?' he asked, jerking his head in the direction of Noel's bedroom which was directly above them.

'Yes,' she said, flicking the page of the newspaper.

He rolled his eyes at the immaturity of her bluntness; he simply did not have the patience for her dramatics. 'Then I will speak with Perry in the morning,' her assured her nonetheless. She made an odd snorting noise. 'Did I say something amusing?'

'Perry's not here.'

'What?' he said, aghast, 'I told you to keep him in the house!'

'In case it has escaped your notice, Severus, which it likely has considering your distinct disinterest in your sons' wellbeing, Perry is a sixteen year old wizard and I am not a witch!'

He frowned, 'Bry, did he use magic against you?' he asked, ignoring her jibes. He forbid the use of magic in the house on account of Bryony being a Muggle, refusing to even use it himself. However, Perry was still underage, meaning if he had used magic not only would he be in trouble with school but now also with the Ministry of Magic.

'No,' she replied quickly, perhaps a little too quickly. Severus saw her mentally cursing herself for giving Perry away. She was far too protective of him for Severus' liking.

'No, of course he didn't,' he said, with evident sarcasm, 'and where has he gone?'

She frowned thoughtfully, 'Mallory, no Malfoy, maybe … is that someone you know?'

He blinked at her incredulously. It was not her fault; of course, she could never understand the severity of the situation now. 'I am … acquainted with someone of the name Malfoy, yes,' he answered after a long hesitation.

She looked at him properly now for the first time that night, 'And what am I to deduce from your expression?' she asked, a suspicious look crossing her features. Severus realised he was pulling a face himself, one which somewhat resembled worry, and quickly returned to his customary scowl.

'Nothing.'

'Don't lie to me,' she snapped, 'what does Malfoy want with Perry? He won't hurt him will he? Because … if he did, Severus, I … I don't think I could … not after what happened.' Her voice had become high-pitched and whiney; Severus detested it when it did that.

'Lucius Malfoy is vindictive,' he said carefully, not wanted to tip her so far that she would cry, 'he will play mind games with Perry, but I doubt he would hurt him physically.' The last part was most certainly a lie. Severus was sure Lucius Malfoy was growing as increasingly concerned about the imminent return of The Dark Lord as Severus himself was; though undoubtedly for very different reasons. The Malfoy's would have fallen out of favour, considering the generous donations they had aided the Ministry with since Voldemort's apparent demise, and, as far as Severus could construe, Lucius would be looking to ease his punishment somewhat, and bringing fresh meat to the table would certainly suffice for the time being. Lucius had gone to extreme lengths in recent years to win favour in the wake of the news that The Dark Lord would return. Lengths that Bryony could never know of.

'Please, Severus, don't let anything happen to him!'

He nodded, 'I will ensure he does not leave the house again over Christmas, and at the end of the holidays he will return to Hogwarts with me.'

'They're having him back then?'

'Of course.'

o…….…….o

Perry Barrington rounded the street corner and glanced up at the old house, noticing at once that, though the living room curtains were, as always, drawn, a warm glow emanated from behind them, spilling through the crack where they met. His mother had not awaited his return from one of these late-night trysts since the first time she had discovered his absence some four weeks prior. Then he remembered, and cursed under his breath. Tonight was the night his father was due to return. He had very much intended to return home early tonight so as not to alert Severus to his meetings with Lucius, however, he had entirely forgotten about this during his brawl. After a moment of ponderous hesitation he decided he would attempt to sneak back into the house undetected; he had done it before, he could do it again.

o…….…….o

His years as a spy had ensured Severus was particularly acute to anything untoward that was commencing in his vicinity and his front door being unlocked at half-past two in the morning fit into such a category. Thus, he was up from his seat and in the entrance hall before the door had even opened. He watched from the shadows as Perry pushed the door ajar and peered around for signs of parental presence. Severus was satisfactorily hidden, another attribute attained from his time as a spy, and Perry did not initially see him. It was, in fact, only when the boy attempted to close the door behind him, and Severus held it open with a strong hand that Perry became aware of his being there.

'Shit!' the boy spat under his breath.

'Indeed,' Severus drawled.

'Who're you talk-' Bryony inquired, appearing in the living room doorway. 'Perry! What the hell happened to you?' she asked, and Severus noticed for the first time also that his son appeared to be injured.

'I'm fine!' Perry assured them shortly, striding forwards to escape their grasp but having to grab the nearby banister to steady himself.

'Go to the kitchen, Perry, let me tend your wounds,' Bryony pleaded, placing an arm around his shoulders. He looked momentarily hesitant but it seemed a fleeting emotion for he began limping into the kitchen. Bryony turned back to Severus as he did so, 'you _promised_ me no harm would come to him!' she hissed in a dangerous whisper.

Severus shook his head apologetically and followed them into the kitchen after a moment of recuperation in the entrance hall. This was not Lucius' style, he thought, Lucius would not beat a child _half_ to death. No, Lucius would have finished the job.

'I have some potions and balms that will heal those wounds more efficiently,' Severus suggested entering the kitchen as Bryony sprayed a deep gash in Perry's head with Muggle anti-septic.

'I don't need _your_ help!' Perry gasped.

Severus raised an eyebrow, 'very well,' he said after a moment, turning and walking out of the room.

o…….…….o

Severus always found it difficult to sleep around the time of the anniversary, and this year was no exception. The thought of the Gryffindor dusting down his robes in front of that great manor, smiling so shyly, so innocently at the camera, plagued his dreams incessantly. He vacated his bed to the sound of the dawn calling and made his way to the kitchen for strong coffee and a cigarette, feeling the effects of his overindulgence on whiskey the previous night. He also found Bryony had kindly deposited her copy of _The Daily Mail_ on the kitchen table and had set about reading an article about the Muggle Prime Minister when the kitchen door was pushed open and a boy of eleven who, of all his sons, most resembled Severus, entered.

The boy looked momentarily startled by Severus' presence, 'dad,' he said after a long while, 'you're home.'

'It would certainly seem that way, Jared' Severus replied, taking a sip of his coffee and flicking the page of the newspaper.

'I won't tell mum you smoked in the kitchen,' the boy said, pouring himself a bowl of cereal, drowning them in milk and retrieving a fork from the cutlery drawer.

'Much appreciated. Use a spoon.'

'Don't like milk.'

'Then don't put so much on.'

Jared shrugged, swapped his fork for a spoon and sat across from his father at the kitchen table. Severus took a long drag of his cigarette then stubbed it out in an ashtray, blowing the smoke in the opposite direction to where Jared sat: Bryony despised his smoking, especially around her children.

'It's a year today, isn't it?' Jared asked after a long silence, chasing a Lucky Charm around his bowl with his spoon.

'Yes.'

'Can I come to the grave yard?'

'No.'

'Why?'

'I'm going alone.'

'Doesn't that make you sad?'

'Not any more so.'

Jared nodded in defeat and turned his attention back to his soggy cereal; he knew better than to argue. Severus watched him mash pieces if marshmallow up against the wall of his bowl. Jared could be most generously described as odd. He was bookish, like his father, only the genre he chose to divulge in was questionable to say the least. He was also retiring, spending most of his time alone but out of the house, rummaging about the perimeter of the garden collecting things that he took a liking to, which had most likely blown in from the street, and discarding litter from his room in their place, a swap, of sorts, that he insisted was necessary. The things he collected would most likely become a part of the shrine he was dedicating to whatever his latest obsession happened to be. He was also highly acute to the Muggle world, though this was probably because he had spent little time in the wizard world thus far in his life, he seemed far more comfortable in Bryony's world, and it did concern Severus how he would accept and be accepted at Hogwarts when he started that coming September. As Severus watched, Jared began slurping at his milk between his lips, but he was by no means drinking it.

'Stop that!' Severus demanded, lowering the newspaper as the kitchen door swung open and Bryony appeared with Noel perched on her right arm.

'Isn't it a little early for you to start berating them, Severus?' she asked, a twisted smirk forming about her mouth.

'He was being disgusting,' Severus stated, simply, picking the newspaper back up.

'Something he evidently inherited from his father,' she sniped, indicating the ashtray on the table and the still slightly smoking cigarette.

'Oh yes? Who's he then?' Severus asked, sardonically, looking at his wife with intense mockery.

She appeared suddenly forlorn and exhausted, 'not today, Severus,' she said.

'Sorry,' he replied, though almost inaudibly.

Bryony deposited Noel in the seat beside Severus and hurried about the kitchen making him breakfast.

'Daddy,' Noel said, pointing to Severus.

'Hello,' Severus replied, holding the boy's outstretched, chubby little finger, and tugging it gently. Noel giggled and pulled his hand away. Severus smiled, then remembered the Gryffindor, and frowned. 'I'm going,' he said, rising from the table, 'I shall be back this afternoon … and then I will speak with Perry,' he added, eyeing Bryony pointedly.

o…….…….o

The fog was so dense it seemed almost penetrable, as Severus made his way through the grave yard, but he had walked this path a number of times before and knew his way well enough. The high wall came into view when he was mere meters away from it and though the house beyond was enveloped in mist the tops of the dead apple tries aligning the orchard could be made out just over the wall. He placed a hand on said wall and traced the brickwork as he made his way to the left, around a family plot and finally into the deep shadow of a hibernating oak tree, below which stood the grave.

Severus knelt beside it and checking around for signs of other mourners clandestinely conjured a small bouquet of flowers and leant against the headstone. He closed his eyes and the Gryffindor formed in his mind once more; though this time willingly. If you studied the young man closely enough you could tell he was Severus' son. They had the same pointed features and dark, limp hair, though Severus' was considerably less fashionably styled. The boy had inherited his mother's green eyes, however, and he was quite handsome because of it.

Severus fell onto his knees and allowed his hand to roam over the engravings on the headstone:

_Quentin Severus Barrington_

_1975 – 1994_

_Much-loved son and brother_

'Do you still blame yourself, Severus?' and voice sounded from behind him. He turned swiftly and saw a dark figure emerge from the fog, a stony expression on her face and a single white rose in her gloved hands.

'Everyday,' he replied upon recognition.

'Good.'

'Thank you, _mother_,' he spat, getting to his feet. 'Why are you here?'

'I came to say hello to my grandson. I have as much a right to mourn as you do, do I not?'

Severus grunted somewhat petulantly in reply as his mother lay the rose by his bouquet. They stood in silence for a long while, shoulder to shoulder, their gazes fixed upon the grave. Remembering… A budding Ministerial worker for the Department of Mysteries, Quentin had been murdered as he left work for the Christmas holidays, a year previously. Severus was in no doubt as to the identity of the culprit, though there was little he could do about it considering his current standing in wizarding society and his promise to Dumbledore. Had he had liberty he would have had his revenge, however. The murder had happened at a time of much confusion. Rumours were still rife of The Dark Lord's return and the Ministry had been rather pre-occupied with the escape of Sirius Black (Quentin's murder was certainly one for which Black could be held accountable, as far as Severus was concerned – had the Ministry not had quite so much of their time and energy invested in the fugitive, Quentin might still be alive). But at the time Harry Potter's life had been apparently endangered and was of far more consequence than that of a young Unspeakable trainee.

'I trust you are staying home for the holidays?' Eileen asked, breaking the silence so suddenly Severus jumped slightly.

'Yes, until the New Year.'

'Then I shall see you on Christmas Day. I'll pick up the turkey, Bryony insisted I didn't put myself out but do assure her I don't mind,' she hesitated before continuing, 'you're a very lucky man, Severus.'

'Having a dead son's lucky now, is it?'

'You know I didn't mean that. I meant with Bryony, Perry, Jared and Noel … you are very lucky to have them still with you.'

He looked into her eyes, 'I know,' he whispered, then turned away from her so as to hide his welling eyes. After a few moments, in which he was sure she was contemplating comforting him (and deciding against it probably due to the fact that she had never been accustomed to it), he heard a faint popping sound, and he knew that she was gone.

…….…….

The television was on when Severus returned home. He hated television. Despite his father being a Muggle they had never had a television in the house when he was a boy, but Severus had watched it a number of times at Lily's and could simply not fathom how anyone could receive pleasure from the inane, fictitious dramatics of soaps or having pompous suited men reiterating the news. He scowled as he saw both Noel and Jared watching, crossed legged on the carpet, with expressions of such dumb intensity they might very well have been mistaken for Inferi.

'There's no point _them_ being upset,' Bryony sighed, meeting Severus in the entrance hall as she came down the stairs with a basket of dirty washing. 'We have to carry on as normal,' she added, indicating the basket with a nod of her head. 'How was he?'

'His site is well kept. Why don't you visit?'

She chewed her bottom lip momentarily, 'I don't think I can, Severus …'

He nodded in response, 'Perry, he's in the house?'

'Still in bed.'

'It's half past two in the afternoon!' Severus shook his head with annoyance and strode up the stairs to Bryony's cries of: _'he'll be in an awful mood if you wake him!'_ Severus quite frankly did not care. There was no way that he would spend a year with Perry hating him, blaming him for Quentin's death, for the boy not to bother waking on the anniversary of his murder to remember him. Severus threw open the bedroom door without ceremony and met with Perry's bed in three swift steps. He tore back the covers to find the teen curled in a ball; he had been very much asleep until the intrusion occurred.

'Get up!' Severus snapped, 'now!' he added, for mere effect.

Perry rolled over to face his father as Severus opened the curtains, allowing a flood of white, wintry light into the room. The contrast between Perry's side of the room and Jared's was vast. Perry's seemed almost clinically clean and tidy, his school books were piled evenly on his desk, perfectly adjacent to a number of sheets of parchment he had evidently pressed until they were even and crisp. He had three brooms of varying age and condition leaning beside his desk, perfectly aligned with one another and all at the precise same angle. He also had a number of The Weird Sisters and Puddlemore United posters above his bed, all seemingly measured so their positions matched perfectly. Jared's side of the room, on the other hand, was adorned with piles of old volumes scattered about the floor and shelves; random scraps of parchment littering his desk and, above the head of his bed, the latest shrine. An assortment of pictures were tacked messily to the wall, surrounded by strips of tinfoil, crushed drinks cans and sweet wrappers, Severus did not have the time to identify who it was the shrine was currently dedicated to, but a vast collection of black and white Muggle newspaper pictures, though it was impossible to see what they depicted in the shadows, suggested some Muggle politician or film star.

Perry glared at his father through sleepy eyes, 'what do you want?' he snapped, sitting grudgingly on the edge of his bed and yawning dramatically.

'You will not speak to me – or your mother – like _that_, Perry!' Severus snapped, a feeling of rage overcoming him so hastily he was forced to sit down in the chair by Perry's desk, for he was not convinced he would be able to refrain from lashing out at the insolent brat if he could not calm himself. He met his son's gaze and the habitual shadow of hatred behind the glossed emerald irises was unmistakable. 'I am sick and tired of your insolence! I want to know what business you had with Lucius Malfoy,' Severus began, managing with much strife, to maintain a level voice.

Perry frowned, seemingly trying to establish how much of his story to relay to his father. 'We talk, that's all,' he concluded with an indifferent shrug.

'About what?'

There was another long hesitation. 'Stuff … _things_,' Perry said at length.

Severus sighed agitatedly, 'please don't be so tedious, boy!' he snapped, slamming his fist on the desk, causing Perry to flinch slightly.

Their eyes met again, only this time Severus saw a look of determination in the boy's that had not been there previously. 'Things of which I cannot speak to you!' Perry snapped, defiantly.

'And what can't you talk to me about?' Severus asked. As aforementioned, Severus had never been close with his sons but he had certainly felt he had always been approachable should anything of any importance be bothering them. Perry looked suddenly uncomfortable, his gaze shifted about the room, drifting somewhat towards the photographs he kept on his bedside table. One showed Perry as a second year, scowling in front of Hagrid's hut as his older brother ruffled his hair, and the other portrayed Quentin alone, dressed in Muggle clothing and looking rather smug about something. 'Quentin?' Severus asked, his tone delicate. He felt a sudden surge of nausea.

'That's part of it,' Perry replied, playing with a scab from the previous night on his forearm, probably to distract Severus from the fact that tears had formed in his eyes.

'And what does Lucius have to say about Quentin?'

Perry frowned, 'can't say.'

Severus rolled his eyes. At one time, when Perry had not been quite so obtuse, his family were about the only thing Severus could ever muster patience for. This time seemed an age ago now. Before Quentin had died Perry had been quite as charming as his older brother. Perhaps a little more brutish and mischievous, but then, he was a Slytherin. He had done well in school until his OWLs when he had barely scraped the grades to continue to NEWT level and even then was doing, in Severus' opinion, inane subjects that would not serve him well after his school years were finished - but everyone attributed Perry's new attitude to the loss of his brother, and Perry revelled in the essence of his contemporaries' sympathy, using it to his advantage at every given opportunity. Severus, on the other hand, would give him no leeway, Quentin's death had not had that effect on anybody else, after all.

'There are things I could tell you about Lucius Malfoy that would make your blood curdle! I want you tell me, Perry, it is imperative that you tell me, what lies Lucius Malfoy has been attempting to brainwash you with!' Severus continued, his voice growing harsh now.

'I'm not sure they're lies.'

'Tell me!' Severus spat, and Perry must finally have acknowledged the severity of his father's tone for this time he obliged to answer.

'He … enlightened me to a few things,' he said slowly and thoughtfully. 'Quentin was a traitor to The Dark Lord's way of thinking, wasn't he?' The question hung in the air and Severus could bring himself to do nothing but listen to where this was going. Quentin had certainly not been sympathetic toVoldemort's cause. He had grown up in a time when Voldemort had been inconsequential, with a Muggle mother and very much-reformed Death Eater father, not that he had ever been aware of the fact of the latter. 'Well, he was, wasn't he?' Perry continued after a long moment, 'a Gryffindor through and through, he didn't see anything wrong with Muggles, did he? It might not have been a bad thing but … well, you must have thought it was …'

'And what do you mean by that?'

Perry chewed his bottom lip, the way his mother did, and frowned, averting his gaze, 'you're a Death Eater, aren't you?'

Severus had expected the question, 'I _was_,' he replied.

'But if The Dark Lord returned, you would go back to him?'

'Yes,' Severus hissed through gritted teeth, knowing Perry would never understand the full implications of that statement. When he returned to Voldemort it would certainly not be to resume his position as a Death Eater but rather for the protection of Harry Potter, and ultimately his family.

'So, you must have found Quentin's Muggle-loving somewhat tedious?'

'I relinquished my position as a servant to The Dark Lord many years ago, Perry.'

'But not before Quentin was born. You must have hated that he was half Muggle, half _mum_!' he cried, with a look of delight in his eyes at having riled his father to such a great extent. 'The Dark Lord doesn't know about mum, does he?'

'No,' Severus replied, 'and if you value her life, that's how it will stay!'

Perry laughed, a dark, ominous laugh, 'why do you care?' he asked, 'you let Quentin die, why not mum, is she worth more than Quentin? Her blood's as filthy as it gets!'

Severus lurched out of his chair and withdrew his wand in one swift motion. He towered over Perry, who scuttled back on the bed until he met with the wall finding himself trapped, jabbing his wand into the boy's ribs. 'So you have a problem with your mother being a Muggle now?' he said, spraying Perry with spit their faces were so close, 'and it doesn't sound like you respect Quentin quite like you once did!'

Perry looked suddenly affronted, 'I do!' he insisted, 'I just … I just didn't realise what he'd been like with Muggles!'

'And what, according to Lucius Malfoy, was he like with Muggles?'

'Campaigned for equality once he got into the Ministry, didn't he? And didn't he have a Mudblood girlfriend?' he answered, his face twisting into an expression of disgust.

'If he campaigned for equal rights it was for the sake of your mother and as for a girlfriend, I was not aware he had one at all,' Severus said.

'Well if _you_ were not aware he had one then he _must_ not have!' Perry sniggered, his voice riddled with sarcasm.

Severus chose to ignore his son's subtle snipes about his bad parenting, 'so in the space of just over a month, Lucius Malfoy has been able to convince you that both Quentin and your mother are the scum of the Earth?' he asked, with a tone of mock impress. Perry averted his gaze. 'Are you ashamed, Perry?' he continued, watching his son's face flush with colour, 'you ought to be! Where do you think you'd be without your mother? –'

'With Quentin?' Perry asked, apparently not as fazed by Severus' display of anger towards him as Severus had suspected.

'That is not how it would be!' Severus yelled, 'you know, Quentin was eighteen when he died and a far more capable dueller than you'll ever be, no matter what you might think … so if there was nothing Quentin could do to save himself, then there is little _I_ could have done!' he paused momentarily to allow this to sink in, he was not sure who he was trying to convince of the truth of this statement most: Perry or himself. 'I'm trying to protect your mother and you, and your brother's from suffering the same fate as Quentin, Perry. Your … _relationship_ with Lucius Malfoy puts you all in jeopardy. Do you want to be responsible for that?'

Perry shook his head, though it seemed somewhat uncommitted. Severus sighed with exasperation. 'For some God forsaken reason your mother thinks an awful lot of you, Perry, you would do well to show her some respect, you know? She sacrificed everything to move to this house, your grandparents, her friends, her job … for you to hate her because of her blood would be the ultimate betrayal, boy, and I think you should think long and hard about that before you become engrossed in the business of the Dark Arts – believe me when I say I recognise the signs,' he broke off with a smirk, in the hope of giving the impression he'd read Perry like a book. It ought to bring the boy down a peg or two. 'Do you want your mother and other brother's dead too?' he asked, indifferent to his own bluntness. Quentin, and perhaps Lily's, death was the only subject with which he would ever usually speak with any compassion.

'No,' Perry said, and for the first time that night Severus was sure of his sincerity, then he was struck by a terrible thought.

'Did you tell Malfoy where this house is?' he asked, withdrawing entirely from Perry's personal space and starting to pace in front of the bed with his arms folded.

'What does it matter, Dumbledore's Secret Keeper.'

'If you told Malfoy where the house is he'd be able to get in here, just like you, your mother and I can come and go as we please … the Fidelius Charm would be diluted … he'd be able to come when I was at Hogwarts … when your mother was alone … shit! Perry, did you tell him?'

'No, no I didn't … at least I don't remember doing so.'

'What bloody good is that! You're useless! You know you won't see Lucius Malfoy again … not that I imagine you'd want to after what he's done to you,' he said, gesticulating towards the wounds Perry had attained the previous night, 'I'll speak with him about that –'

'It wasn't Lucius,' Perry argued defensively.

'Then who?'

'Draco.'

'Why?'

'Didn't seem to like my spending so much time with his father!'

'Then we share sentiments,' Severus laughed with relief. It did not seem Perry was Lucius' next target in quite the same manner Quentin had been. 'You will remain in the house until the end of the Christmas holidays and then you shall return to Hogwarts with me,' he said, stopping his pacing and turning to face his son again. 'Oh,' he said, smiling wryly, 'I need to see your letters too.'

'What letters?' Perry asked, feigning innocence very badly.

'I think you know.' Perry sighed and reaching under his bed withdrew a pile of around six official looking letters. Severus snatched them out of his son's hands and began filing through them. 'They're just warnings?' he asked, hopefully.

'Yeah.'

'Lucky,' he said, 'if you ever threaten your mother with magic again I'll personally see to it that you never have the ability to use a wand again, understand?' Perry gave an odd jerk of his head, which Severus took to mean that he did indeed understand. 'Good,' he murmured, before turning to leave the room.

'Dad?' Perry called as he reached the doorway.

'What?'

'You go to the graveyard today?'

'Yes,' he said and Perry nodded, glancing at the photographs on his bedside table again, 'your grandmother and I laid flowers and we're having a meal tonight … as a _family_ … you will be there,' he said, and it was a demand not an order.

Again Perry nodded in compliance.


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter Two: Truth_

Skirting the perimeter of the whitewashed toilet block to the rear of the house Severus ensured he was out of Bryony's sight: out of sight, out of mind, he thought, knowing this would be as appeasing to Bryony as it was to him. He placed a cigarette between his thin lips and lit it with a silver lighter he maintained in his trouser pocket. He could hear the television distribute a chaotic combination of bagpipes, cheering, clapping and singing, an endless irritation to him. Glancing around the garden he saw that Bryony had done her best to maintain it, the lawn was tidy, the trees trimmed, and tonight they danced in a soft breeze, their frosted coats sparkling in the moonlight. In the distance the sound of the final celebratory fireworks cackled into the night air, and the last drunken muggles stumbled back to their homes. Severus exhaled loudly: a second Christmas, and a second New Year, without Quentin had taken its toll. He would return to Hogwarts the next evening, and attempt to forget for another year… There was a shuffling and a clicking. Severus looked up in time to see Perry's face momentarily illuminated by a flame that flickered then diminished. Father and son acknowledged one another with a stiff nod.

'It was no easier this year, was it?' Severus asked, almost inaudibly.

Perry frowned, seemingly shocked, and looked up at his father, 'err… no,' he said at length.

'How does your mother do when I'm not here?'

Perry snorted, 'better,' he said. 'Dad, you're crap at this kind of talk' he added, after a moment, 'stop pretending you care. Just leave it.'

'Of course I care,' he replied quietly, 'I don't know what's happened to you, Perry.'

'You don't know anything about us, and it's fine, no, it's better that way. Quentin was quite clearly your favourite…'

'I don't have a favourite, Perry, for Merlin's sake!' Severus interjected harshly.

'When you got back before Christmas did you care to ask if I'd heard from Puddlemore? Do you care that Jared has Sirius Black plastered all over his bedroom walls? Did you even check if Noel has shown signs of magic yet?' Perry asked, his eyes becoming wider with every question. 'I didn't think so. You have no idea how much I miss Quentin, no clue. But, bloody hell Dad, _we're_ still alive!'

Severus hung his head, determined not to let Perry know how much his rant had stung. He allowed his son to calm down a little before he spoke again. '_Did_ you hear from Puddlemore?' he eventually asked.

'Oh for Merlin's sake!' Perry snapped and they finished their cigarettes in silence before moving back into the house together.

Bryony and Severus' mother were sat on one sofa with Jared between them while Noel stood on the sofa in the bay window with his head under the curtains behind it. Watching Perry disappear up the stairs two steps at a time, Severus situated himself beside his youngest son. Bryony and Eileen were watching some muggle musician prance about a stage on the television and Jared read his book. To Severus it was all somewhat disappointing. Tonight should have been festive but had instead been spent like a wake. There seemed to Severus no escape to this perpetual mourning.

'A man,' Noel said suddenly, bringing his head back from behind the curtain.

'What's that?' Severus asked.

'Look, a man, Daddy!' Noel repeated, pointing towards the window.

Severus turned around and drew the curtains open in one swift motions. He could see nothing and nobody.

'Stay here,' he said, with a pointed glance in Bryony's direction. He took his wand from his pocket and unwarded the front door, stepping out into the cold winters night. He strode down the garden path and flung the gate open, his wand outstretched before him. 'Where are you?' he shouted into orange light flooding the street from the streetlights. 'I know you're here somewhere!' he yelled. There was no response as he glanced rabidly from one end of the street to the other. He was met by silence. 'When I find you, I'm going to kill you!' he screamed, turning back to the house. A pale form in an upstairs window caught his attention, and he watched as a smirking Perry slinked back into the shadows.

Severus strode back into the house and sought Noel who was Eileen had huddled in her lap. 'That man you saw,' Severus said, in a harsher tone than he intended, 'what did he look like Noel?' Noel whimpered slightly and huddled further into his grandmother's lap. Severus sighed and inhaled deeply, 'I'm sorry Noel,' he said, altering his voice now, 'can you tell me what that man looked like, please?'

'Urm… I… he had a hood, Daddy… all black, all over!'

'And what was he doing?'

'He just looks, looks at me and at a house.'

Severus moved back and sat on the coffee table, slamming a fist hard down onto it.

'Severus?' Bryony inquired tentatively. 'Who was it?'

Severus shook his head, 'no one to worry about,' he lied, 'I didn't see anyone.'

o…….…….o

Severus sat in an overstuffed armchair in Professor Dumbledore's office, adjacent to a rather defiant looking Perry. It was evening on New Years day and they had been summoned by the Headmaster in order to discuss Perry's return to Hogwarts following his lengthy expulsion. Behind his desk, leaning forwards casually on his elbows, Dumbledore did not look as grave as Severus thought the situation warranted, Perry would never take the old man seriously whilst ever his eyes glinted in that fashion.

'Well, Perry,' the Headmaster began. 'I have spoken with Professor Burbage about you returning to us this term, and as it stands, I'm afraid, she's refusing to teach you.' Perry covered an evident grin with his hand and nodded with mock solemnity. 'However,' Dumbledore continued, now eyeing Perry suspiciously. 'I think that if you were willing to apologise for you behaviour, she may feel differently. Will you apologise?' Dumbledore asked.

'Oh, yes, yes sir!' Perry replied, nodding furiously. Severus suppressed the urge to backhand his son sharply on the shoulder for his childish and unmistakably mocking tone, but a fleeting glance issued his way by Dumbledore helped him resist.

'Very well, and please Perry, if you ever speak to a member of staff, or a student for that matter, in that way again we will seriously have to consider your future at Hogwarts.'

Perry nodded, 'won't happen,' he said.

'Very good. Now, Professor Burbage will be in her office I should imagine, you go there are make a profuse apology before you go to your common room, alright?'

'Thanks sir,' Perry said, standing up and turning to leave without even acknowledging Severus' presence.

Severus waited until his son's muffled footsteps disappeared down the stairway before he spoke, 'he'll apologise but he won't mean it,' he spat with undisguised contempt.

'Now, now Severus,' the Headmaster chided, 'he isn't a bad lad.'

'You have no idea!' Severus replied loudly, standing up and beginning to pace about the room, 'He's been seeing Lucius Malfoy, I think he's told him where the house is… he was there, last night, outside, just looking in.'

The sparkle in Dumbledore's eyes diminished, 'you saw him?' he asked.

'No, not exactly… Noel did, but I mean, who else could it have been?'

Dumbledore sighed, seemingly relieved, 'anyone, Severus, it could have been anyone,' he said with a small smile, 'forgive me if I don't take the word of a four year old as evidence.'

'We need to repeat the Fidelious Charm, we'll move them again and we'll get a new secret keeper,' Severus demanded.

'If that makes you feel better.'

'I think to be honest it's the least you can do,' Severus spat, turning to face the Headmaster, 'after all the stuff you've got me running around doing for you, or, rather, for Potter! You know that Granger girl is still stealing from my stores?'

'Severus, Severus, sit down. That is inconsequential,' Dumbledore said, his voice remaining steady. 'You said before, Perry has been spending time with Lucius Malfoy. I assume because Lucius intends to use him as a piece offering when Voldemort returns. We need to put a stop to it.'

'Don't you think I know that? If there was any way, I would!' Severus replied, slumping back into the overstaffed armchair with his arms crossed.

'Severus,' Dumbledore said seriously, eyeing the Potions Master over the top of his half-moon spectacles, 'I think it might be time to tell Perry the truth.'

o…….…….o

Perry Barrington waited, cracking his knuckles as he did so. Green hues reflected from the lake through the high windows danced over his face as he glared into the dying embers of the fire. The common room was cold and damp and his breath gathered in wisps of condensation as he exhaled; lengthily and angrily exhaled. He had been and apologised to Professor Burbage, though he was loathed to do so, and he hadn't meant a word. As far as he was concerned she'd deserved every syllable of abuse he'd uttered. Anyway, she had agreed to continue teaching him Muggle Studies this term so he'd got what he wanted…

There was a click of a door opening somewhere behind him but he didn't acknowledge it. A blonde haired intruder made his way across the common room and slid onto the suede emerald sofa beside Perry.

They sat for a moment in silence before Draco spoke. 'My father has asked that I apologise to you,' he droned. Perry merely nodded. 'He also told me what business the two of you have… said he's preparing you… for when _he_ comes back?'

'Yeah.'

'Why isn't your _own_ father doing that?'

'Cos' of Dumbledore. It's got to seem like he's reformed hasn't it? Obviously!'

Draco exhibited a long hiss of mocking laughter, 'and are you quite sure he hasn't?'

Perry looked at Draco for the first time, 'absolutely!' he spat, 'you'll see, when _he_ comes back, who _he_ deems to be his most faithful!'

'I'm sure I shall,' Malfoy grinned, standing up, 'my father urges that you exercise a little more discretion this term, he doesn't think the Dark Lord would be impressed with your blatant attacks on muggle lovers… you know, until the time is right?'

'Whatever.'

'I'm just telling you what he said.'

'Get lost!'

Draco shrugged and left the common room the way he'd entered, leaving Perry alone once again. Generally, alone was the state in which Perry preferred to be. He had once enjoyed the company of a number of good friends and, probably because of his mother's muggle heritage; they were not all pureblood championing Slytherins. But since Quentin's death he'd pushed them away, retreated into himself and preferred to spend his time wallowing in his own grief.

People told him that in time the pain of losing Quentin would ease, but Perry did not want it to ease, to him that would be like forgetting. He knew that Quentin, like his mother and his father, would be ashamed of the person he had become, and, though he would never admit it, it was because he was scared. He had attached himself to Lucius Malfoy because he was scared that when the Dark Lord returned he would not believe his father when he explained that he was not on Dumbledore's man but his. He was scared that either at the hands of Voldemort, or one of his minions, he would suffer the same fate as Quentin. As far as Perry was concerned, what his parents thought of him was no longer of any significance.


End file.
